Only In Your Dreams
by NCCJFAN
Summary: What would happen to Jordan if Emily's murder was solved? FINISHED
1. The Fallout

She couldn't think…all she could do was feel as his hands roamed over her…gently touching her here, pressing a soft kiss there, before claiming her lips again and kissing her until she absolutely couldn't think at all. She felt the zipper slide down the back of her dress as he eased it from her shoulders, pushing it down to her waist and then the floor before running his fingers through her hair… softly whispering her name before he lifted her in his arms and took her to bed.

Took her to bed and made love to her until he was the only coherent thought she had. He was the only thought she wanted to have.

And then she woke up -- suddenly, almost coming off the thin mattress, her breath catching in her throat, and her body breaking out in a cold sweat.

It was the same dream she had with alarming regularity. When she first moved here, she had it nearly nightly…then weekly. Finally it had lapsed into only a few times a month. But every time it returned, it came back with such a fierce intensity that she had trouble differentiating between reality and her dream world. She could feel his hands…hear his voice. Only to wake up to the bitter knowledge that her dream, like him, had slipped away from her.

Jordan sighed and got out of bed. She would get no more sleep tonight.

* * *

Garret sighed and looked over his morgue…it was in shambles. It still was a wreck from the months before. He didn't know when it would be back to normal. To be honest, he really didn't care. He went into this office and slammed the door. There was a stack of messages on his desk. He didn't have to guess who half of them were from. The Massachusetts State Attorney General. _What are you going to do about it? What do you think? How should we handle this? _

_What am I going to do about it? Not a damn thing. This is your mess. You clean it up. What do I think? I think you people screwed up big time and want me to try to straighten it out. How should you handle it? How the hell should I know? I'm still struggling with how to deal with it myself._

Garret pulled a file from the drawer of his desk and looked through it for the millionth time. He should have seen it coming. At least as DAs go, Rene' Walcott was honest, even if she couldn't be faithful. He may have had to put up with her hard-assed ways, but if the truth slapped her in the face, she would recognize it and back down. When she resigned to go to the West Coast to raise her son, the new DA was entirely different from her. A political show pony. He didn't care about the truth…only making a name for himself. And he did it on the backs of others.

At least those in charge had seen the DA for what he was…and when the police picked him up and charged him…a collective sigh of relief could have been heard in the morgue and the Boston PD. But it was too little too late. Far too little, much too late. The damage had been done. The backs that the DA had rode to notoriety, had broken.

Some never to be repaired again, Garret feared.

He looked over at Nigel and Bug. Nigel was still thinner and paler than usual. The dark circles under his eyes denoted the fact that he still wasn't sleeping right. Bug looked equally as wane…and had become even more withdrawn than usual. Lily, well, Lily had never looked so worn out…Even in the worst crisis, Lily had maintained her professionalism and composure – the federal building collapsing, the airplane crash that killed Devan – she had handled them all well. But this time, even Lily came apart.

But the one item that silently spoke volumes was the empty office at the end of the hall. She was gone. Jordan was gone. The back that DA really broke was hers. And in the end, when it was all over, she didn't recover. Not this time. She was tired of fighting. She had left her letter of resignation and cell phone on Garret's desk, cleaned out her office, and disappeared. No one knew where. Not even Woody.

No one but some lawyer in downtown Boston. Jordan had said in her letter that if anyone needed to get a message to her, to do it through her lawyer. And that lawyer wasn't telling anyone anything about Jordan. "She wasn't charged in this event, so there's no need for the Boston PD or anyone else associated with them to know where Dr. Cavanaugh is at. I will tell you that she is safe…and coping." That is all the counselor said, effectively shutting everyone out of Jordan's new life.

Garret glanced through the file one more time before slamming it shut and throwing it back into his file draw in disgust. No matter how many times he would look through it, there was nothing new there…nothing that would shed any light on why it had to happen and where she was.

And he wished he knew where she was….he had called all the morgues she had worked at before…Denver, Atlanta, LA, Chicago….none of them had seen her or heard from her. Nigel had discreetly put a search out for her and came up empty. If all those times she had run taught her nothing else, they taught her how to hide and hide well. It was if she had dropped off the face of the earth.

Sighing again, Garret stood up. It was time to get things back to normal…for his sake and his staff's. He missed her. They all missed her. But they understood why she had to leave … and why this time she would stay gone.

* * *

_It's a lovely morning_, Jordan thought, as she backed her jeep out of her great-aunt's driveway and headed into Dublin. _It's a lovely morning, even if I don't feel quite so lovely myself._ She never fell back to sleep after she woke from the dream that had disturbed her rest.

She drove into Dublin with the windows down and her favorite CD playing. Her CD collection, her guitar, her clothes, and a few pictures were the only things she had taken with her when she fled Boston that night, months ago. She had taken only what was most important to her. She left instructions that the rest of her belongings be sold and the money put in her account. The Pogue, she had left to be managed by her lawyer's discretion. She got weekly financial reports. If Max didn't come back, she eventually planned to sell it.

Ireland. She had run to Ireland. The land of her roots. She had connected with one of her father's aunts…her great-aunt Caroline. The woman had taken her in and welcomed her as one of her own children. Caroline's daughter, Kathleen, remembered her father, Max. Jordan wasn't quite sure what to make of the family reunion, but she was glad it happened. Kathleen worked at the University of Dublin. She got Jordan a job teaching there. Jordan lived in the upstairs of her Aunt Caroline's tiny cottage. Caroline called it the garrett. Jordan thought it was ironic that the place that was protecting her and keeping her safe now had the same name as the man in America who had worked so hard to protect her, too.

Jordan sighed as she thought of her friends…and Woody. She hadn't tried to contact any of them. She didn't know what was going on in Boston. Evidently nothing that concerned her, because other than the Pogue's financial reports that her lawyer faxed her, she heard nothing. Once she found out there would be no warrant sworn out for her arrest, she hopped a plane and landed in Ireland. The land where her father's family came from…the land that had brought her peace of mind. Her great-aunt's cottage was out in the country…about a 45 minute drive from Dublin. She had found serenity and serendipity out there in the green, rolling fields….watching the sheep and the cows. Walking into the tiny village on Saturdays to retrieve a few groceries and things for Caroline. Getting to know her neighbors on a first-name basis and not worrying if she didn't lock her door at night. No one broke into anything there. As a matter of fact, the worst crime anyone could remember was about five years ago when a group of boys egged Mr. Barley's store. It was the talk of the town for a month or more. The boys confessed and were sentence to working five Saturdays for Mr. Barley without pay – after they cleaned the egg off the store front.

If only Boston could have been that simple.

But it wasn't. She had unintentionally left behind a mess that she didn't cause…but she had endured as much as she could. The exhumation of her mother's body was the last straw. After confronting Woody to see if she was going to be charged, and finding the answer was no, she left….she put her cell phone and resignation on Garret's desk and got out of Boston as quickly as possible. She didn't even say goodbye to Nigel…a fact that still bothered her conscious, but she knew it was for the best. The less those folks had to deal with her under those circumstances, the better.

She had heard the DA was arrested and charged. That was wonderful. She had been truly happy to hear that. Kathleen had asked her if she was planning to go home now. Jordan just looked at Kathleen as if she had lost her mind and replied, "I am home," for in this case, home wasn't right behind her…it was right in front of her.


	2. Still In His Dreams

**Chapter Two**

In the end, all he thought about was that he couldn't protect her.

Despite of everything they had been through together, despite of all the times he had kept her safe, this time he could do nothing to protect her. Not a damn thing.

Woody pinched the bridge of his nose and sat back in his desk chair in office. He was tired, and he looked it. As a matter of fact, he could count on one hand the hours of sleep he had in the last week and still have fingers left over. He wasn't eating. Some of his coworkers said he looked gaunt.

She haunted his sleeping and his waking hours….her and what happened. And God, the events happened so quickly, it was difficult for him to piece them together in any semblance of order.

Rene Walcott had resigned. She had her baby and resigned to leave for Seattle to take a better job there…plus she had family in the area. He didn't blame her. It would be tough to be a singe mom and work the hours a practice required without a support system. She didn't have that luxury in Boston. And although Woody had no particular great liking for the woman, he did respect her.

That something he wished he could say about the new DA, Douglas Baker. Baker intended, from day one, to put the unsolved Malden murder back on the front page of _The Boston Globe_. He would solve the case, or he would die trying.

The problem was, the DA didn't care how many other bodies he left in the wake of his quest.

Woody knew there would be problems for Jordan from the beginning. Max was still nowhere to be found. Jordan became the target for Baker's investigation, despite the fact she had long ago been exonerated. She became, in short, a walking bull's eye.

Woody remembered when he realized this, and what happened when he went to tell her. He had to tell her, despite the fact it would tip her off and maybe make her run again. He hoped she wouldn't…that she would trust him. After all they had been through, he hoped that the trust that had seemed to blossom take root between the two of them would be strong enough to withstand this next storm.

After Devan, after the crash, after many long talks, and sleepless nights, they had finally broken down the walls that Jordan had erected against over twenty years of lies and deceit that had been dealt her. The battle had been hard, but the victory had been sweet … so very sweet. Woody's lips twisted into a wry smile as he remembered. Damn, they had just gotten started, when Baker started in on her.

Malden had said that James was the key to the mystery of Emily's murder. But James had been nowhere to be found…his body wasn't in the Charles River, but no one had seen him. Of course, with no birth certificate or legal identification, it would be easy for the man to hide … if indeed, he was still alive.

Unfortunately, Baker didn't see it that way. He was too busy to chase real or would-be ghosts. Jordan was much more accessible. Jordan was vulnerable without Max or James to back her story. And Jordan had found Cahill's remains in the trunk of that 1966 Ford Fairlane and the remains of the dirty money that Max, Malden, and Cahill were recycling. That made her culpable enough in the DA's eyes to open a new investigation with her in the crosshairs. Besides, Malden was killed in her Pearle Street Apartment.

It didn't matter that Woody had proven that Malden had drugged her. It didn't matter that Garret had found her in an alley beside her apartment during the time that Malden was murdered. It didn't matter that Max was found standing over Malden's body with a gun. It didn't matter that James had said, in front of witnesses, that he had shot Malden to protect Jordan.

It didn't matter.

Nothing had mattered but the DA's ambitions. Woody had wanted to quit the force over it. He had typed his resignation and had his gun and badge in hand to turn over to the chief of police when Nigel stopped him. "You're about the only friend she's got in there," Nigel had said, pointing to the police station and DA's office. "If you leave, she really will be sunk. Please don't, Woody. For her sake. I know it's tough mate, but think about how hard it will be on her if she doesn't have a friend in there."

Woody had swallowed his pride and remained. But a lot of good it did him. He still couldn't protect her…keep her safe. Something he had always done….he had taken great pride in doing. It may have been a male-thing…taking care of "his woman."

He preferred to think of it differently…as taking protecting the one thing in his life that meant more than life itself – Jordan.

In the end, she had to run. She had to leave. He knew that. She had no choice. But that didn't stop her from returning on a daily basis in his mind and in his heart. He could see her everywhere he turned….he could smell her perfume. And God help him, at night, he could feel her beside him…holding her close, as if that could keep all the forces of Boston and the DA from getting to her.

He looked out his office window to the parking lot below. He could see her old parking spot…and in his mind he could see her old El Camino…he had begged her to get rid of it…it was a hunk of junk…she could get herself killed in that thing. He sighed. Now her parking place had been given to the new ME. He hadn't met him. He didn't want to. He understood that Garret hadn't given the ME Jordan's old office. It was almost like a shrine to those who loved her and hated to see her broken. Woody often would find himself going by the morgue in the evening, even when he didn't have business there, just to look in her office…nothing much of her remained there…just the houseplant that Lily kept watered as silent testimony to her one-time occupation of the facilities…but her spirit – Jordan's spirit – was there.

He had bought her El Camino at the small auction the lawyer had at her request. The few pieces of furniture she owned…some kitchen appliances….books….her car. They had all been sold and the money put in her savings account. Woody bought her car…she had loved it. He bought it so that if she returned, he could give it back to her…giving her something she loved would somehow help ease the ache he felt in his heart. And it kept her close to him. On days, or more likely nights, when the pain in his heart would give him no rest, he would go downstairs to the parking deck of his apartment and just sit in the vehicle. It still smelled like her. He found out why…there was a bottle of her perfume in her glove box…along with some lip gloss – the peach color she always used to wear, a hair scrunchie, some hair clips, and her winter mittens.

Woody sighed and fought back the tears in his eyes. She was gone. He didn't know where she was at…just that she was fine and "coping," as the lawyer said. Gone…the word passed over his lips in a whisper. Gone…but still in his dreams.


	3. Nightmares and Saying Goodbye

**Chapter Three**

Nigel had run the DNA tests. He had hated to do it, but he was forced.

Forced to do something against his will…forced to submit to a person with more authority…forced to run a test that could ruin his friend.

He didn't want to do it. He told her he didn't want to do it. She said she understood, just go ahead, run the damn tests, and the hell with the outcome.

So he did. He ran Malden's DNA against traces of an unknown DNA source found in the police car that James had driven the night he jumped from the apartment building into the river. There was enough of a match to verify a genetic relationship between the unknown DNA and Malden. The DA had declared that Malden was James' father. The links were quickly coming together to forge a chain in the DA's case. If Baker could link Max and Malden together…he would have a case. If Malden was James' father, then there was a chance that he was also Jordan's father. That would give Max double motive for wanting Malden murdered– keeping all the money for himself and the fact that his wife had a long-time affair with Malden and fathered the children he thought were his.

So what was next? A DNA sample from Max and Jordan. That proved harder. Malden's and James' DNA samples were already in police custody. It would take a court order to search Max's old house for a trace of genetic material as well as a court order to force Jordan to give a DNA sample. There was no way she was going to voluntarily give one.

And right now the DA would be hard pressed to get a judge to sign off on either order.

Nigel had sighed with relief. He was afraid the nightmare that would keep him awake at night would be of him pulling a DNA sample from Jordan against her will and processing it. Instead, the dream that kept him up was one of Jordan running…afraid, alone, and vulnerable…away from everyone that loved her and that she loved.

It was this vision that kept Nigel up nights…kept him pale…and kept the dark circles under his eyes. While Bug and Lily were just as emotionally torn apart about what the DA was doing to Jordan, Nigel felt had a personal hand in launching her from Boston….against his will, to be sure, but nevertheless, he felt as if he himself put her on a plane and shipped her out of her hometown. He had nearly searched for her himself … thoroughly this time, and not the general search that Garret had asked for earlier…out of concern. Came really close to doing it a couple of times. Garret knew what he had been thinking. "Ignorance is bliss sometimes, Nige," he said, in passing one day. Nigel knew what he meant. If he didn't know where she was at, he could honestly say he didn't know to the DA, if questioned. Even pass a lie detector test, if necessary. Then the DA would have to find her on his own.

And he would give anything to bring her back…His heart broke for Jordan. She was just getting her life together…keeping up with the Pogue and her work as an ME, finally building a relationship with Woody. Slaying the demons that had tormented her for years…and then this. He missed her more than he could put in to words…but it was better that she stay wherever she was at for now.

But maybe, someday, she could come home….at least that's what he hoped.

* * *

Jordan arrived at the university and went to her office. She didn't have to teach for a couple of more hours, but she had some tests to grade and needed to go over her lesson plan for the dissection lab this afternoon.

In many ways, the line between being a teacher and an ME had blurred for her. She still worked with bodies, but now it was cadavers. She was giving another group of up-and-coming doctors her knowledge and hopefully implanting some of her intuition with them…but she hadn't worked with detectives or helped solve a crime in six months or longer.

She missed her old work. She missed her friends. She missed Woody. But she was trying hard to build a new life for herself here, in Ireland. She couldn't see herself ever returning to the States…to Massachusetts…to Boston. That part of her life was now a closed chapter. She was desperately and deliberately trying to recreate herself in her new surroundings.

Outwardly, she was being very successful. She was a popular professor at the university. She had quickly earned a reputation for being fair, but tough….and extremely knowledgeable. The students liked her for her quick wit and her dedication to them. The dean liked her because she was on time, prepared, and didn't mind working extra hours. Caroline's neighbors liked her because she would run errands for them and always took time to speak to them…not like some "Yanks" who would just breeze by them without so much as a hello.

Kathleen had tried to fix her up with a couple of the local boys. "It's not good that a young one like you sit at home on Friday nights," she had commented. Kathleen had introduced her to John and Patrick….two young men in Dublin who were very nice…she had a good time with them…going to the local pubs, dancing…but if the truth was told, she would rather sit home in her room on the weekends and read, watch a little TV, or remember. Remember working with Nigel and Bug. Lunches with Lily. Talks with Garret. Life before Baker became the DA in Boston.

Remembering how it felt kissing Woody.

Leaving family was difficult…and that's what her co-workers were at the morgue…her family. They were all she had after Max left. She thought time and space might ease make the loss she felt. It hadn't.

Especially where Woody was concerned. They had just started really dating when she had to leave. They had just started really understanding each other. He had told her about his parents…his revelations had both shocked and enlightened her. Now she knew why he understood her so well. Their losses nearly mirrored each other's. It had allowed her to finally open her heart to this man who worked so hard to protect her…knowing he wouldn't hurt her. Unlike the other men in her life, he would be there … always.

And he had been. Up to the end. Until she reached the point she knew she would have to leave in order to protect _him_. That last night, she had showed up at his apartment, crushed, nearly completely destroyed emotionally by Baker. She had knocked, and he answered the door, took one look at her shattered form, and pulled her into his apartment. He had dried her tears and held her…made love to her until the wee hours of the morning.

She knew what she had to do before she even got to his apartment. As a matter of fact, the airline tickets had been in her purse. Her packed suitcases were waiting at her apartment. She came to tell him goodbye, but in the end, realized it was better for him all the way around if he didn't know she was leaving…if she told him she was going, he would want to know where. And he didn't need to know that. The DA would be all over him, then. And she couldn't bear that thought. No. She had to keep everyone she loved and loved her in the dark.

So after he was finally asleep, she had gently untangled herself from his arms, swiped a pair of his sweat pants and a Boston PD t-shirt to wear home, tenderly kissed him one more time, and let herself out of the apartment.

She knew he would wake up in a few hours and realize she was gone…and begin to call…and then search for her. She only had a few hours to do what she needed to. She had gone back to her apartment and changed into jeans and a blouse, and threw his sweat pants and t-shirt into her carry-on. She called a taxi. She went by the morgue to leave her resignation and cell-phone on Garret's desk, took the few personal effects out of her office, and then went to the airport. The only person in all of Boston who knew exactly what she was doing was her lawyer, Bill Crahen. Bill had even purchased her plane tickets for her….in a fictious name with cashso the Boston PD and Baker couldn't trace them back to her.

So she had left for Ireland. Left the life she had known and loved back in Boston. And left her heart in Woody's apartment. She was a popular figure in this part of the country…but a lonely one. Somewhat solitary…somewhat sad…but strong in her own subtle way.


	4. Interrogation and DNA

**Chapter Four**

It was Woody that had heard the news first…that Baker had finally gotten a judge to agree to sign off on the warrants to search Max's house and get a DNA sample from Jordan. He knew he had to get to her before the officers did. He tried her cell phone, but it went to voice mail. He tried the morgue numbers. Lily said she was in autopsy. "I've got to talk to her…ASAP, Lily," he had said…the panic in his voice evident.

Lily promised to get in touch with Jordan. In a matter of minutes, she had called him back. "They're at your father's house," he had told her, "They're searching for something…anything…that would give them a DNA sample."

"Good luck," Jordan had replied. "The house has been cleaned out for months…Dad took all his combs, hairbrushes…toothbrushes…shaving supplies. If there's any DNA left in the drain traps, it's contaminated. And the house has been cleaned top to bottom since he's left…beds stripped, carpets cleaned, everything…I was planning on renting the house out. Everything's gone."

And she had been right. The DA could not get a straight DNA sample for Max anywhere in the house. In frustration, the DA had put out an APB on Max and came up empty. He was seemingly no where to be found…bank accounts having been cleaned out long ago and no current activity on any of his existing credit cards. If Jordan had learned how to run and hide effectively, she had learned from the master – her father.

It was then Baker narrowed his search to just Jordan. He was determined that somewhere behind those whiskey-colored eyes, she knew all the answers. Woody was there when they had picked her up for questioning. He had requested that he be the one to come and take her from the morgue. But he refused to cuff her. "She's not being arrested…she's not being charged. She's just being questioned," was his reply to the DA. "She won't run with me here."

And she didn't. She had just looked at him with eyes so full of pain that he could hardly bear it. "This is not my idea," he had whispered to her in the elevator."

"I know," she had replied softly. "I just thought this whole damn mess was behind us."

He wasn't allowed to talk to Jordan, but sat behind the interrogation room, watching through the two-way mirror. Baker was ruthless in his questioning. For hours Jordan answered his inquiries…professionally and calmly. It wasn't until Baker had mentioned the possible exhumation of her mother for mitochondrial DNA matches that she lost it.

She was tired…tired from being in court, testifying earlier that day. She hadn't even had chance to change. She was still in her dress, hose, and high heels. Woody knew this made her even more uncomfortable and somehow, Jordan in a dress…looking so feminine…appeared even more vulnerable.

The endless questioning had frazzled her. She was offered nothing to drink…only given one bathroom break. The possible exhumation broke her. She dissolved in tears…which was what Baker had wanted from the beginning. "Don't," she had begged. "Please. What's possibly buried with her, I don't want to know. I've told you everything…compare it with my earlier testimony from two years ago. Nothing's changed. The evidence hasn't changed. I haven't changed."

But that wouldn't dissuade the DA. "We have to have answers. The chief-of-police can't be murdered without some answers. I think you did it. I think you were the one that pulled the trigger. I think it's all wrapped up in the neat little package of your paternity. Malden slept with your mother. Your mother had two children by him…you and James. And since James technically doesn't exist on paper, he really doesn't exist at all. That leaves you and your father working together….to get back at Malden and what he did. You found the money. You found Cahill. You are the connection. You're the link."

The door had cracked open to the room Woody was in. It was Dr. Macy. "Have you come to watch this mess?" Woody had asked. He had assumed Garret was there for moral support.

Garret sighed and suddenly looked haggard. "No. I'm here to pull a DNA sample from Jordan. Court order."

Woody had paled. Next thing he knew Garret was in the room with Jordan and Baker was telling her exactly what had to happen. She had looked at the DA and Garret in disbelief. "I'm sorry, Jordan," Garret had said. "I have to." He wanted to do this himself…hoping that in someway, this would make it easier on her…He didn't want Nigel or Bug to have to deal with this memory. It would be harder for Jordan to be mad at him.

"I know," she had said, somewhat meekly submitting to Garret. It was at that point, Woody had to leave. He had to, or he was going to go into that interrogation room and punch the DA's lights out. Woody knew what the man was up to…trying to establish that Malden was indeed, Jordan's father. He couldn't watch Garret pluck the hairs from her head, or swab the inside of her cheek for cells. He had left. Gone back to his apartment.

And it was there she had run to a few hours later. After the DNA samples were pulled, she asked if she was free to go. The DA had nodded. She got in her El Camino and went to Woody's apartment. It had been pouring down rain. She stood outside for a long time, getting soaked to the skin…thinking about what now had to happen.

When she had rung his doorbell, and he saw how broken she truly was over the possibility of what she may soon learn about her paternity, Woody couldn't help himself. With no thought that his actions were being caught on the security cameras of his apartment building the police could reference in the future…with no thought of what may happen to him as well as her, he had pulled her inside and held her. She soaked his shirt with her tears and her wet clothes. He hadn't cared. He just needed to ease her pain. He had held her, tried to dry her tears, and tried to tell her everything would be all right…but the words stuck in his throat. He couldn't promise something he didn't think would happen. He had gently kissed her…but she wasn't satisfied with that. She had kissed him back…and the passion had soared. Before he really knew what was happening, his hands were on the zipper of her dress and he slid it down. Her dress, half slip and bra had quickly joined the soggy mass on the floor.

He had made love to her…for the first time, and unbeknown to him, for the last time. She had clung to him, as if letting go of him would somehow cause her to lose her way…He had cherished that…and her….and never wanted it to end. But in the morning…when he woke…she was gone. No note. No nothing. He found her dress still on his living room floor. He had hung it up to dry and now had it in his closet. Her perfume lingered…He didn't miss his sweat pants and t-shirt for a few more days and realized they had gone with her, wherever she was at. He hoped she would wear them and be reminded of him…he hoped she would remember that he loved her.

She was gone by the time the DNA samples came back. The ones that Dr. Macy processed himself. He wouldn't allow Bug or Nigel to do it. He didn't want to put them in that predicament. As a matter of fact, he didn't even know if Jordan's DNA matched Malden's. He had shut down his computer screen before the results came up, printed out the report, folded it in half, shoved it in an envelope, sealed it, and delivered it to Baker's office himself. That way, if Jordan ever did ask him about it, he could plead honest ignorance.

It hadn't taken any of them long to figure out what happened. After Jordan had left that night, she had phoned her lawyer to make sure she wasn't being charged…Bill had told her no, there wasn't enough evidence. "Can I go?" she must have asked. He had answered affirmatively. So she had.

Woody understood why she did this, as did Garret. Garret missed her nearly as much as Woody. He loved the ME that was like a kid sister to him. She was irreplaceable – which is why it took him three months to hire another one after she left. He hoped one day she would come home…back to Boston…back to the morgue…back to the people that loved her. But he understood why she had to leave, and for now that was the best thing for her. If she had stayed in Boston much longer, Baker would have railroaded her into jail time.


	5. A London Holiday

**Chapter Five**

Without Jordan, without Max, Baker was stonewalled…there was nowhere he could go. Just because the DNA results did or did not conclude that Malden was her father, it did nothing to prove her culpability, or lack of it, in the murder. In fact, all the past evidence pointed elsewhere.

An APB remained out on Max. After months of hoping and praying Max would come home for his daughter, now everyone was hoping and praying he would stay out of Boston for a while longer. Whether Max had somehow heard or not, he made no appearance in Massachusetts. In fact, no one was sure where he was at. And now his daughter had followed suit.

But word about an impending murder investigation gets out…especially one with the notoriety that Malden's had. It was on the news. It even made the cable news shows occasionally. And it kept percolating through the press even after three more months passed by. Baker kept pushing the issue, pushing his detectives to find Max. Woody had always thought it odd that the DA did not do nearly as much to find James. Of course, James had no paper trail…he was harder to find. And one virtue Baker did not have was patience. Max would be easier to find…maybe.

It was fall…October to be exact. Jordan had been gone nine months. Nine months with no word from her. Woody would call her lawyer, Bill, every week to find out if she was okay. Bill's answer was always the same, "She's fine, she's safe, she's well….she's coping. I'll tell her you called." Woody got no more out of him. He knew why Jordan had chosen this man to be her lawyer. Bill Crahen was short, stout man, but would fight like a pit bull for his clients. Woody had seen Douglas Baker back down from Bill numerous times over Jordan.

So Woody and the others would go to the Pogue occasionally, just to feel like they could be near her…just in case she might call the bar to see how things were going there…just to pretend things were normal. It was heart-wrenching. Five people pretending that their lives were going on as normal when the one person they missed most wasn't able to contact them for fear of the DA hurting them. Woody finally had given up on the bar. His heart couldn't take it. Besides, he had the El Camino and her dress…which still hung in his closet….and still smelt faintly like her.

He wasn't sure where it was all going to go…no one was. He just knew he missed her a little more each day. The time kept slipping by until now it was close to Christmas. He didn't want to be alone this holiday, so he had volunteered to work. So did Nigel. Nigel was going to take some time off after Christmas and go back to England. London, actually, to visit family and friends he hadn't seen for years. Woody stopped by Nigel's office one quiet evening during the holidays before the Englishman left for home.

"Have a good trip," he told Nigel. "Be careful. Send me a postcard?"

"Ever been to England, Woody?"

"No. I've always wanted to go. Just never had the opportunity."

"Make the opportunity. Go. You have nothing holding you here. It would do you good to get away."

"Yeah." Woody ran his fingers through his hair. "It's just….just…"

"I know mate. I still miss her, too. Macy still hasn't given her office up. Says he's holding it for her. Told me when she had been gone two years, he would know that she really wasn't coming back."

Woody nodded. "Have a safe flight, Nige. I'll see you when you get home." And with that, Woody turned and went back to his lonely office. Nigel watched him walk away. He had never seen the detective looking so despondent. He was missing her even more now.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to go by yourself?" Kathleen asked Jordan, as she watched her cousin throw some things in a suitcase.

"Yeah. I need some time away. The travel agency is offering a special package and I don't have to be back for classes until January 15. I can be gone for a week or so and then come home, refreshed and ready for the next semester."

"Have you ever been to London, Jordan?"

"No. But I've always wanted to go. The crown jewels are going to be on display then. I want to see them. And the Tower of London."

"The pubs are good, too."

"That's what I've heard."

Jordan zipped her suitcase closed and put it in her jeep and began her long drive into London.

* * *

She had never seen so many people in her life. Like most "Yanks," she had assumed that the crown jewels were on display regularly enough that the native Londoners wouldn't be so captivated by them. She had assumed wrong. The museum was wall-to-wall people. She managed to wiggle her way out of the lobby…when she thought she saw a familiar form. She mentally shook herself. It couldn't be. It was her mind playing tricks on her because she was so homesick and missed everyone so much. Then she heard the voice… "Sweet Mary in the manger, who do we have here?"

"Nigel!"

He caught her up in a tight hug, completely disregarding the people around them. "Jordan…as I live and breathe, I never expected to see you here. Let me look at you, lass."

She looked good…a little thinner, looked like she may need a little more sleep, but her hair was still long and wavy… and her eyes were still just as beautiful. "Jordan….what…where…do I want to know?"

Jordan couldn't help but laugh at his confusion. "Buy me a pint at the pub down the street and I'll tell you all I can."

Nigel nodded and steered her out the door, his hand tightly clinging to her arm, as if he was afraid she was going to run away again.

* * *

"So that's the whole story?" Nigel asked, working on his second pint.

"Most of it. All I can tell you, anyway," she replied, still working on her first.

Jordan had given Nigel an extremely sanitized version of what had happened to her. He knew about the DA questioning her. Garret had told him about the DNA samples he had to pull. And Woody had filled him in about her coming to his apartment and then leaving the next morning. She had told him what had happened from there. Yes, she had called Bill Crahen and cleared it by him that it was okay for her to leave Boston. She had run…She was living in Europe, but not England. She was only there for a holiday before she had to go back to work. Yes, she had a job, but no, she wasn't a medical examiner right now.

"That's all you're going to tell me?"

"Nige, that's all I can tell you. It's still better that you don't know. Especially since Baker still is trying to find Malden's murderer and probably still thinks it's me."

"But you're okay and happy?"

"I'm okay…but I miss everyone so much…it hurts, you know?" Nigel saw the tears that threatened her eyes. God knows he didn't want her crying now.

"What's say, that since we both have about four days left on our holiday, that we spend them together…I won't ask any questions, but you can ask as many as you want about us…let's just enjoy it? What do you say, love?"

"I'd like that….very much."

So for the next four days, that's exactly what happened. Nigel took Jordan to all the out of the way places that weren't so "touristy" in London. He was just simply glad to see her…be with her… hold her hand. He even stayed with her at her hotel. About the second day, she began to ask questions…about Bug, about Lily…about Garret.

"Garret worries that you blame him for the DNA tests," Nigel had told her.

Jordan shook her head. "That was the DA, not Garret. And I can't believe he hasn't let the new ME take my old office."

"He says if you're not back in two years, then he knows you're not coming home. Should I tell him to go ahead and let someone use it?"

Jordan had looked down at her hands then. "I don't know…I hope I might be back someday…but that's not my decision."

Nigel had nodded in understanding.

"Nigel, what about Woody? How is he?"

"He misses you, lass….something awful. I've never seen him look so bad…he's lost weight, Jordan. And doesn't look like he sleeps well."

"My lawyer says he asks about me every week."

"That he does. He loves you, Jordan. He wants you to come home."

She fought to keep the tears back then. She missed him…so much. The dreams of him kept coming….more frequently now. She kept thinking she heard his voice….felt his touch, only to realize it was just a vision in the night that was cruelly playing with her emotions.

"Tell him…" she began, her voice faltering… "Tell him I miss him, too….so much. And I haven't stopped loving him…and I hope I can come home and be with him one day."

Nigel nodded. Woody would hate that he didn't take Nigel up on his offer to come to London after the holidays.


	6. Find Her

**Chapter Six**

Woody couldn't believe that Nigel had called and asked him to pick him at Logan. He and Nigel had never really been close, but Jordan's leaving had sort of thrown them together in an unlikely way. However, Nigel had called and was insistent that Woody meet him. So here he was now…waiting for the flight in from London.

Catching sight of the lanky Englishman at the baggage desk, Woody went over to him. "How was your trip?" he asked.

"Good. Informative," Nigel replied. "Let me get my bags and we need to talk." Nigel retrieved his luggage and walked with Woody out to the detective's car. "You'll never guess who I ran into in London."

Woody looked at Nigel carefully. "No…you didn't."

"Yes. I did. She was there, Woody."

Nigel watched the emotions play across the young man's face. Finally, regaining his voice, he asked, "How is she?"

"She's well. Thinner, perhaps. Looks like she could do with a good meal…and a good night's sleep. But okay. She's working, but not as a medical examiner right now."

"So she's living in London?"

"I don't know much, mate. Just what she told me. She's living in Europe, but not England. She was only there on a holiday. She wants to come home, but doesn't know if that will ever happen."

"We've got to make it happen, Nige."

"She misses everyone, Woody. She was nearly in tears talking about me, Bug, Lily, and Dr. Macy. She did break down when she talked about you. She misses you, Woody. She told me to tell you she did….and that she loves you."

Woody nodded, his own throat too filled with tears to reply. They drove in silence back to Nigel's apartment. As he was getting out of Woody's car, he turned to thank the detective for the ride and slid an envelope into his hand. "She said to give you this. She really misses you…I have a feeling that is the reason she doesn't look like she's resting well at night."

Woody looked at Nigel questioningly.

"I stayed with her at the hotel, Woody. She would call your name out in her sleep."

Woody swallowed hard. "Thanks…for everything, Nige."

"Don't mention it. I'm just glad I saw her."

Woody drove back to his apartment as quickly as he could. It was Saturday. He had the day off. He went up stairs, sat on his couch and stared at the envelope for a long time. He slowly opened it up and took out the sheets of paper…they smelled faintly of her perfume…her neat handwriting filled the pages. He began to read.

_Dear Woody,_

_I hope this note finds you doing well. Nigel said you've lost weight and are working too hard. Slow down. Eat right. You need to stay healthy, so I won't worry._

_I hate I had to leave that night the way I did…when I did. But you know that Baker left me no choice. He would have found a way to pin the whole Malden thing on me, despite the fact I didn't do it. And sitting in a jail cell for something I didn't do is not my idea of a life._

_I'm fine. I have wanted to get in touch with you, but I knew if I did, and Baker found out about it, it may put you between a rock and a hard place. Enough time has passed that I feel I can tell you that I'm in Ireland and I'm working…trying to make a life for myself here. It's difficult…I'm sure Nigel told you I'm no longer a medical examiner, but I work in a closely related field. I miss my job at home…I miss my friends…but mostly I miss you. _

_I hope one day I can come back to Boston. But the people in Ireland are nice…and my work is fulfilling. But I miss you Woody. And I love you. I don't think I'll ever not love you. I also want you to know something else._

_We don't know how this whole thing is going to end. I don't know if I'll ever really be able to come back to Boston and pick my life back up there. Ireland may indeed, end up being my long-term home. So after time, if you want to begin making a life for yourself without me, I want you to know I will understand. Life is too short to live on dreams…and end up alone._

_I miss you terribly. I hope I can see you soon -- someway….some how. By the way, I'm sure you know by now I have your sweat pants and Boston PD t-shirt. Sorry I swiped them without asking….but I felt I needed them more than you did. I sleep in them nearly every night. I just wished they still smelled like you. It would help me sleep. _

_Take care of yourself…I miss you….and love you._

_Jordan_

Wood slid the letter back into the envelope and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Quickly making a decision, he picked up his cell phone and dialed Nigel's apartment number. Nigel answered on the second ring.

"Nige…it's Woody. Have you told anyone other than me that you've seen Jordan?"

"No. Didn't think it wise."

"Good. I don't think it is, either. Let's just keep it between you and me right now. But I was wondering….what are you doing later on tonight…say about 1 a.m.?"

"Sleeping?"

"Could you put that off for a little while and meet me in your office? I think we need to do some computer work under the DA's radar."

"Well, if it has to be under the radar, I suggest you come to my apartment…the computer in the morgue could be traced…mine at home…well, they'd have a tougher time getting to it without a warrant."

* * *

An hour later, Woody found himself back at Nigel's apartment. Nigel's home computer set up rivaled his at work…a good thing for this situation. "So what do you have, mate?" Nigel asked.

"She told me where she was at."

"Blimey…really?"

"Well at least what country…Ireland."

"So you want to try to find her?"

"I would like to know where she's at. I need to see her again."

"That may not be the wisest thing, Woody."

"To hell with Baker. He's interrupted her life…our lives." He gave Nigel Jordan's letter to him. "Read this."

Nigel let out a low whistle after he had read the pages. "So she's prepared to stay in Ireland for the long-haul, isn't she?"

Woody nodded. "And I can't let her do that. Either she's coming home….or I'm going to her."

"Ireland's a big country…to find one person."

"And if anyone can do it, you can, Nige. She's working….she had to at least give them her social security number at some point to verify her US citizenship."

Nigel nodded and booted up his computer. Within two hours, he had the answers Woody wanted. "There she is, Woody. She lives in a little village outside of Dublin. With a lady named Caroline Cavanaugh O'Malley. Must be related somehow. Teaches at the university in Dublin. Never could picture her as a teacher, but obviously she has made a good job of it."

Woody stared at the computer screen. When Nige had entered the university's web page and typed her name in the faculty search engine, her picture had popped up as well as a brief biography. She still looked the same…still beautiful…but her eyes held a lost, hunted expression.

Without hesitating another minute, Woody picked his cell phone up one more time. This time he dialed the airport and asked about flights to Ireland…


	7. A Visit

**Chapter Seven**

It had been a long, hard week. Jordan was thankful that the university's school week ended at noon on Fridays. She was always back home by two, ready to ease into her weekend….helping Caroline with the household tasks…going into the small town to pick up a few groceries…talking with the neighbors. And this Friday was especially good because it began a week of Spring holiday for the college students. She had a whole week off from work. She eagerly began her ride back home.

As villages go, Caroline's was an exceptionally pretty one. Jordan had even begun making inquiries about purchasing a small house of her own. She was beginning to make plans to settle down here long-term…much to Caroline's and Kathleen's delight. She really saw no other way. She had asked Bill Crahen how the case stood. Bill had told her bluntly that there had been no arrests, Max hadn't been found, neither had James, and if she came back, she would once again be the target of the investigation, despite lack of evidence. "I don't trust Douglas Baker as far as I could throw him," Bill had told Jordan. "I know you want to come back, but it's not safe. Stay put. I'll let you know when and if it's okay."

So Jordan had resigned herself to the fact that it may be a while, if ever, Boston would surface again on her horizon. She realized that more than anything, she craved a normal life. One without being sought for a murder she didn't commit, one with stability, one with roots. One where she didn't have to run and keep running, constantly looking over her shoulder, worried about the "what ifs" that may happen.

At least in Ireland she could do this. She was accepted here for who she was, not what she could do. Caroline and Kathleen were great. Her students loved her. It was peaceful. It was healing to her scarred soul.

But she missed her friends….she especially missed Woody. Seeing Nigel a couple of months ago only served to heighten that emotion. She had tried to shake it after returning to Ireland, but it didn't go away. Her dreams of Woody were once again disrupting her sleep. She missed him a little more each day, if that was possible. But she couldn't put him in a position where the DA would run rough-shod over him like what had happened to her. She wouldn't do that to him. She feared she had told him too much in her letter to him…the one that she slipped to Nigel before they had parted ways in London…Nigel going to the airport and she to climb in her jeep to go back to Dublin.

Sighing, she pulled her jeep into her aunt's driveway. Funny, she didn't recognize that car at the curb. Maybe it belonged to one of her neighbor's relatives or friends. She got out of the car, grabbed her briefcase, and entered the front hallway of her Caroline's modest home. Kicking her shoes off in the entry way, she called out to her aunt, "I'm home…Caroline? Where are you?" Jordan had headed for the kitchen…where her aunt was at usually this time of day.

"In the den. We have a visitor. Come here." Jordan thought her aunt's voice sounded strange.

Jordan cautiously entered the doorway to her aunt's den. It was still early spring and chilly, so there was a small fire in the fire place. She saw her aunt sitting in a chair by the fire. Across from her, on the opposite side, a tall figure stood up from his seat on the couch. Jordan nearly choked. "Woody…" she whispered.

She didn't know if he crossed the room to her, or they met half-way, or exactly what happened. All she knew was that she was in his arms and he held her. And her mind kept asking itself if this was a dream or was this really happening. When he finally released her to kiss her, she knew…he was here…and real.

"How….?" She began.

Woody grinned. "Never underestimate the power of Nigel Townsend and a computer. You told me just enough in your letter to get him started searching…"

Jordan smiled. "So you're here…for how long?"

"A couple of weeks."

"And who knows you're here?"

"Just Nigel. Believe me, we have buried this so deep, no one can find me. Everyone from my chief, to Dr. Macy, to Douglas Baker thinks I'm in Kewuanne fishing with my brother," he replied, noting the worry that was surfacing in her eyes. "Don't worry, Jo," he softly whispered. "It's fine. I had to see you…make sure you were all right."

Caroline cleared her throat. "You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend in the States, Jordan…one that has missed you a great deal, I think."

Jordan looked at her aunt guiltily. "That's okay, lass," Caroline said, smiling at the couple. "Enjoy your time together the next couple of weeks. As I said, Woody, I have a spare bedroom, next to Jordan's. You're more than welcome to it. The nearest hotel is in Dublin, anyway."

"So you're staying here?" Jordan asked.

"Seems that way…any problems?"

She knew there could be…the DA could possibly find out…Nigel could let it accidentally slip…but for right now it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was here…and would be for two weeks. Any problems could go to hell. She may not see him again after this. "No," she said. "No problems. So what would you like to do first?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he asked suggestively.

* * *

Jordan had worried that Woody may be bored with the slow pace in the village, but he soon disproved her doubts. He was there to see her and didn't care where they were. The first night he was there, he had waited until he was sure Caroline had dozed off in her downstairs bedroom and then he crept into Jordan's bedroom, catching her in his old Boston PD t-shirt, brushing out her hair.

"Woody," she had softly protested, "We can't… not now. Not with Caroline…"

"I know," he had replied. "I just want to hold you….I'll go back to my room before morning."

The next day, Caroline told Jordan she was going into Dublin to shop with Kathleen. "I'll be gone about all day…I will probably stay with Kathleen tonight, so don't worry if I don't come home."

"I can take you into Dublin, Caroline," Jordan had told her.

Caroline gave her niece a long look. "I may be old, but I am no prude. You and your young man need some time alone…and I'm giving you that. You can thank me later." And with that, she was gone.

Jordan turned and looked at Woody, with her mouth open and her cheeks bearing a faint blush.

"I like your aunt," Woody said, before he threw her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.


	8. Found Out

**Chapter Eight**

The two weeks went by all too fast for Jordan. The first week, they had gone into Dublin to the pubs, shopped, and let Woody see the sights, spending every minute they could together. The second week, he would go in with her to the university and sit in her classes. He was slightly amazed at the transformation in her. She had gone from being an excellent ME to being an excellent teacher. "I've never pictured you doing this," he said, walking her back to her office after class.

"I enjoy it…it's different. But I miss my old job. I miss being an ME. I miss…I miss home, Woody," she had said. "I don't mean to complain, I just…miss everything." Her voice had faltered.

He hugged her then. "I know. We're working hard. Maybe it won't be too long."

Jordan made no mention of it again the rest of the time he was there…finally, that last weekend came all too soon. He had the night flight out from Dublin. He would drive his rental car to the airport…and turn it in. Then fly back to Boston. Alone. After breakfast that morning, they drove to a small park not far from Caroline's house…to be by themselves. And to talk.

"I wish I didn't have to leave you here," Woody said, gently threading his fingers through her hair.

"I know, but you have to."

"Hopefully, soon, this whole ugly situation will be resolved."

Jordan sighed. "I don't know, Woody. Who knows what Baker is going to do? And who can stop him? I can't come back home …. I don't know when I will be able to come back…."

"Jordan, you can't lose faith…"

"I'm not, Woody. I know if anyone can put an end to it, you can. But I'm being realistic. If it's not solved…if I can't come back, you need to go on with your life. Don't wait on me."

"No. I don't want to hear that…"

"Well, it's true. You need to go on with your life if I can't come home. What if Malden's murder is never solved? Even after Baker is no longer DA? There's always going to be this cloud of suspicion over me…that I did it…or had something to do with it."

"So are you going to stay in Ireland the rest of your life?"

She had pulled away from him then. She needed space and time. "I don't know. Here…here people know me for who I am, not what I did or didn't do. I have roots…I have stability – two things I need very badly. Boston…Boston, as much as it is home and as much as I miss everyone, it can't offer me that until this is behind us. And if it never is, then I can't go back."

"So what are you suggesting?"

She turned back to him and took his hands. "If Malden's murder is never solved…if I'm never completely cleared, I won't come home. I'll never have peace there until we know who killed him."

Woody nodded. He understood…"Then if it doesn't get solved, then I'll come to you…I like it here."

"Woody, that wouldn't be fair to you. You would have to give up a lot to start over here. That's what I meant when I said that if I can't come back, you need to go on with your life.

He shook his head. His life wouldn't be anything without her.

* * *

Woody went back to Boston to find himself in the middle of a storm. Baker had pulled out all stops to find the true killer of Malden. The detective prayed that his secret trip to Ireland did nothing to put Jordan in any type of jeopardy. Nothing seemed wrong…no one seemed any wiser and everyone kept asking him how the fishing was. Nigel did take him aside and question him when they were alone.

"How was she?"

"Not as well as I would want. I see what you mean…she's thinner…and still worries. And she is really homesick, despite the fact that she loves her relatives and loves Ireland."

"Did she sleep better?"

Woody gave Nigel a look.

"I mean, with you there, did she sleep, instead of toss and turn and call out your name?"

"Yes…she did sleep better." And she had. Woody had held her and didn't hear a peep out of her. She would snuggle close and they both would drift off to sleep after they had made love. Although he imagined now that she got as much sleep as he did…which wasn't much. He could still feel her by his side…and would wake up bitterly disappointed he was no longer with her. And her words still filtered in and out of his mind…_if I can't come back…go on with your life…without me_. How on earth was he supposed to do that? And surely she didn't expect him to.

The storm the DA kept stirring up was building…until one day Woody found himself in the middle of it. He was called unceremoniously into the DA's office. When he arrived, he found Nigel and his chief there. He swallowed hard and glanced at the Englishman. Nigel's brown eyes gave it away. They had been found out.

"So how was your little trip to Ireland, Detective Hoyt?" Baker sneered. "I certainly hope it was worth it, because that vacation may cost you your job and your career, as well as Dr. Townsend's."

Woody said nothing, just letting Baker continue to rant. "You two thought you were going to be sneaky about the whole thing. Fishing in Kewaunne, indeed. Let me tell you something, tracking devices on computers are wonderful things…it took us a while to put two and two together, but we know where she's at now. We know Jordan's in Ireland…right outside of Dublin…and teaches at the university there. We have alerted the authorities and she will be brought back to the United States for questioning…and probable arrest and detainment. So I certainly hope your two weeks of _pleasure_ was worth it Detective Hoyt."

He didn't hear much after that, just sat there with one hand on his forehead nearly covering his eyes. When Baker was finally through, his chief softly asked, "Is this true, son?"

Woody nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. "Yes. I saw her."

The chief shook his head. "I'm going to have to suspend you with pay, Hoyt. I don't want to…you're a good detective. You should have told me."

Woody nodded again, his stomach feeling tighter. Now what was going to happen to Jordan?

* * *

He went back to his apartment…and felt worse with each passing hour. Lois Carver had told him she would call him the minute she knew anything about Jordan. He at least needed to be there to somehow apologize…try to make things right….try to make her trust him again. How in the hell had Baker found out? Tracer on a computer? But they had used Nigel's home computer. He had only a second to talk to Nigel after leaving the DA's office. Nigel had confirmed that he had found a tracer on his home computer, too…but only a day or so after Woody had returned from Ireland. From there, he guessed the DA's office had found out everything they needed to know.

His cell phone's ring broke the silence of his apartment. Flipping it open, he said, "Hoyt."

"Woody…Dr. Macy. Nigel let me know what happened. I am so sorry."

"Thanks, doc. How's Nige?"

"He's fine. The reason I called was because Nigel wanted me to give you some information. He fears that they're still watching him too closely for him to be able to pass this along to you. Before they hauled him off to the DA's office, he was able to call Bill Crahen and tip him off. I've talked to him, and he's already been in contact with Jordan…she's aware what's going on."

"And how is she?"

"She's run."

Woody's mouth went dry and he hung up. Now where was she at?


	9. Mysteries Solved

**Chapter Nine**

_All she wanted was peace and stability…that's all she wanted, _Woody thought, as he was once again hauled downtown to the DA's office. His chief had called and said that Baker wanted to talk with Woody again. The chief would be by personally to pick him up. Woody groaned and wondered what that meant. He was probably going to be charged with some hyped-up warrant. He met his chief downstairs in the lobby of his apartment. They drove in silence to the DA's office. But as they were walking into the building the chief gently caught Woody by the sleeve. "Hoyt, I know this looks bad. But for what it's worth, I don't think Jordan had anything to do with Malden's murder. And I don't blame you for checking on her in Ireland. It was stupid of you not to keep me in the loop, but I understand. And just for your information, there's a lot going on that you don't know about. So keep your chin up and your eyes open." And with that, the chief let him go and they walked into the DA's office.

They were put into a conference room. Woody noted that Nigel, Dr. Macy, and Bill Crahen were there, as well as his chief, Baker, and the ADA. Baker was ranting and raving now about how the Irish authorities couldn't find Jordan…that she was gone. And he knew that someone in that room knew where she was at. In the middle of his tirade, Woody heard a secretary call out, "You can't go in there, you're not allowed…please, wait. I'll ask Mr. Baker…" Then the conference room doors burst open and in ran James….

James….Jordan's brother. Waving a gun.

All hell broke loose.

Woody hit the floor, as did most of the others. But James could have cared less about them. He was after Baker. He walked right up to the DA, and pointed the gun at him. "I hear you've been looking for my baby sister," he said. "You think she's the one that killed Malden…or helped her father to do it. Or at least you want to blame her. You've tried to railroad her for months…the same way my dad…Malden…tried to railroad me. Well, you're not going to be able to do that with my sister. Jordan's my sister… and she hasn't done anything. She tried to help me that night…in her apartment…even after Malden had drugged her. She tried to help me. She fought with him to leave me alone. But he was too strong for her…way to strong. Jordan's little, you know…"

Woody looked over at his chief, who was slowly reaching for the panic button on his radio. Woody was afraid that James would catch the movement and fire at the chief, but James was oblivious to everyone but Baker and himself.

"She tried to help me at my old apartment building…tried to keep me from jumping. Said she wanted to understand me….And I think she meant it. She was the only person in my life that I thought would really do what they said. But I couldn't put her through that…I couldn't put her through what knowing me might do to her. Even though I had only met her…I loved my baby sister…and I wanted to be a good big brother. So I am going to be. I'm going to do what's needed to be done for along time.

"You want to know who killed Malden? You're looking at him. You want to know with what?" James waved the gun in Baker's face. "With this gun. Max Cavanaugh's 'stolen' service revolver. It wasn't stolen…Mom gave it to me. That night I showed up at her house. She knew about me…she knew what Max had done…gave me to those other people because I wasn't his son … She gave me the gun because Malden was already trying to kill me…and I was only 15….just 15, and he was trying to kill me…thought it may come out one day that I was his son and ruin his career. So Mom gave me the gun to protect myself. I had never handled a gun. She was showing me how…and it went off and killed her….I took the gun and ran…I vowed then that one day, Malden would be mine…he had taken everything from me, and I was going to take everything away from him. And I did. That night in Jordan's apartment. So if you want to know who killed Malden, Baker, you're looking at him. And here's the gun. And you can have it in just…just…a minute."

James put the gun to his own head. Everyone tried to reach him at once, but it was too late….the gun went off….and James lay dying in his own blood, at the DA's feet.

* * *

Ballistics had proved it. Nigel ran them three times to verify it. The bullet that killed Malden came from the gun that James had committed suicide with. With the bad publicity that had surrounded the events in the DA's office, the case was officially closed. James had killed Malden. All the details came out. Woody made sure of it. He didn't want anything to backlash and come back on Jordan ever again. With the blame fully laid on Malden's doorstep, perhaps her life could get back to order.

If they could ever find her.

No one knew where she had gone to. Bill Crahen was just a puzzled as everyone else. He had no idea where she was or how to reach her. "I'm at her mercy, guys. She has to contact me."

Woody had called Caroline and Kathleen. They said Jordan had left abruptly. She had resigned from the university, during the week of finals. She had left her tests for the substitute and that was about it. Said there was an emergency with her family back in the States. Everyone was very understanding. She had said she would call when she was settled. "I assumed that perhaps her father had taken ill…she wouldn't give details, just left in a terrible hurry," Caroline had said. Woody hadn't figured Jordan would give her family many details…it could endanger them.

Nigel searched. Nothing. It was as if she had fallen off the face of the earth again.

Meanwhile, the DA was being asked to resign as a result of his handling of the Malden case….a disturbed man had committed suicide and he had run one of the state's best ME's out of Massachusetts. Dr. Macy let his opinion of this be heard loud and long to anyone in the press who would listen. It was one of the first times Woody could remember that Garret had willingly talked to the press whenever they asked.

The DA had waffled on his resignation. But the chief had found ties between Baker and organized crime. Seems some "dirty money" from mobs had found it's way into Baker's campaign funds. And while he had been pursuing the Malden case with great energy and gusto, he had turned a blind eye to the extortion that was rising in Boston from organized crime. However, the chief had kept up with it and had quietly launched his own investigation. He had enough evidence to charge and arrest the DA before his resignation could be tenured.

So two mysteries had been solved….Emily's murder and Malden's murder…both linked by one man…James…who was now dead. Case closed. Problem solved. Mystery over?

Not hardly. Jordan was still no where to be found.


	10. Is it Safe to Come Back?

**Chapter Ten**

"You should go to him, lass," said Caroline, watching Jordan as she helped her aunt rewind some yarn for her knitting. They were sitting in the den, enjoying the warm summer evening.

Jordan had returned to Ireland after spending a month bouncing from city to city, trying to stay one step ahead of the DA. She had cut her waist length hair to her shoulders and highlighted it with blonde streaks. She had even purchased green contacts to disguise herself. She had run and lived in fear for a month. Then one morning she woke up in yet another seedy hotel and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and faced reality. She didn't want to live like this. God knows, she didn't want to go to jail for a crime she didn't commit, but she didn't want to live in fear and anonymity the rest of her life. She had boarded a train. She came back to the village. She had told Caroline and Kathleen everything – about her father, about Malden, about James….about the fact that she could be imprisoned for a crime she didn't do. They had agreed she could stay there…it was summer and she wouldn't have to teach again until fall…the university would gladly give her another teaching position. She could stay there and decide what she wanted to do…they would hide her the best they could and would tell no one she was there.

Then Woody had called Kathleen again. "It's over," he said, not going into a lot of details. "They've found Malden's real killer. Jordan's been completely and publicly exonerated. I made sure of it myself. Douglas Baker has been arrested on another crime…facing multiple charges. The new DA wants Jordan to come back and take up her position as ME…and I want her back….for me…If she contacts you, could you please tell her to call me?"

Kathleen had told Woody yes…if she heard from Jordan, she would pass it on. And she did. She told Jordan. Then she asked her cousin if she would go home…back to the States. Jordan had just stared at her and said, "I am home."

"Are you now, girl?" her cousin had asked, in her thick Irish brogue. "Seems to me there's a lot waiting for you on the other side of the pond. Especially that young man there. He loves you."

So now Jordan was pondering the same advice she had given Woody years ago…Home…was it right behind her or right in front of her? She really wasn't sure. Ireland had brought her peace of mind….serenity….a healing for her scarred soul. She loved the people and this place. It was a jewel among her memories.

But to put down permanent roots here…to live out the rest of her life here….that was a different matter. Marry some man named Sean or Patrick that she didn't love half as much as she loved Woody …teach the rest of her life…have children that would speak with a brogue instead of a Boston accent…All of that was scary.

However, if she went back to Boston, would she still be able to live in peace? That was her dream…finally, after all these years…to have peace…a normal life. For the first time since she was a young girl, Jordan new what she wanted…what she dreamed of having…a normal life…a peaceful Boston give that to her? The only way to know was to go back and see.

"Well?" Caroline asked, bringing Jordan out of her thoughts. "Are you? Going to him, that is?"

Jordan stood up and kissed her aunt on her cheek. "Yes. I am going back to Boston…but if things aren't exactly the way they should be…if I can't be left alone, if I can't have peace, I'll be back."

Caroline nodded. "You'll always have a home here, Jordan."

* * *

Jordan winced at the bright sunlight coming in the plane's window. She had nearly forgotten that in returning to the States, her day would literally be turned back in time. The plane was getting ready to land. She buckled and for a fleeting moment thought of Devan. She hadn't felt easy about flying since Devan's accident. She heard the screech of the wheels as they hit the tarmac. The plane had landed safely.

She had called Bill Crahen and verified what Woody had told Kathleen. Bill had filled her in on all the details…James…his confession….his suicide. Jordan had wept over the brother she never really got to know. She found some comfort in the fact that James did love her and in his own warped way was trying to protect her and be a good big brother. She had wept even harder when she discovered how her mother had died.

So now she had two closed chapters in her book of life. Malden's murder and her mother's. She was in a position, that if she could live in Boston in peace, now was the time to try it out. She told Bill not to tell anyone she was coming back to the city. "This is strictly a trial basis," she had said. "I may yet decide to take up permanent residence in Ireland and become an Irishcitizen."

"The new DA wants you back, Jordan," Bill had replied. "So does Macy. Your office is still empty….waiting on you. And Woody wants you back most of all."

Jordan got a rental car from the desk at the airport. _I'd give anything to have my old El Camino back_, she thought as she headed from Logan into Boston. She was planning to retrace her steps. It had been well over year since she had Boston soil on the bottom of her shoes. She planned to see just how adaptable that soil was once again to her roots. She drove by her Pearle Street apartment. She knew it had long ago been rented out, but she went up to apartment 311 anyway. She lightly touched the big red door, then turned away. In so many ways, that seemed like decades ago instead of just a year…that she lived here. She was a completely different person now than that young, tormented, impetuous woman that had resided inside. She sighed and got on the elevator and rode it down to her car.

Her next stop was the morgue. The butterflies in her stomach were churning as she arrived on her floor. Lily was at the front desk. Jordan paused. "May I help…Oh my God!' Lily exclaimed, coming out from around the desk to catch her friend in a hug. "Oh my God." Jordan felt tears coming to her eyes.

Lily's cries alerted Bug, who came out of his office to see what was going on. "Sweet Nancy," he said, taking Jordan out of Lily's arms and into his own. "God….you look good…what…are you back now? For good? Nigel…Nigel…come here…Come here now."

Nigel turned the corner and lost his breath. "Jordan…oh my….Jordan." And when Nigel grabbed her and swung her around, Jordan did lose it. The tears came. He gently wiped away the tears with his thumbs, holding her face in his hands. "Oh, girl….how we've missed you…Are you back for good?"

"What's going on?" a stern voice asked from behind the group. They parted so that Garret could see. He pulled his glasses off his face. "Jo?" He hugged her and she lost it again. Her mascara was in ruins. "You know, your office is open…available…please tell me you're back."

"I don't know," she replied through tears and Kleenex. "It depends on if this case is really closed like I've heard. I don't want to ever hear anything else about it. I'd like to try to come back on a trial basis…say three months. That would give me time to really see." Garret nodded. The new DA would be delighted.

"Does Woody know, love?," Nigel finally asked. He had assumed that she had gone to the detective first.

"No. I actually just got into town about two hours ago. I've been tying down some loose ends before I came here."

"I'll walk you over," Garret said. "And what the hell have you done to your hair?"

* * *

"Detective Hoyt? He's in the interrogation room with a suspect," Lois Carver told Garret when he asked where Woody was. "The Loring Case…"

"Can we watch from the observation room?" he asked.

"Sure. Good to have you back, Jordan."

"Thanks."

Jordan went into the observation room…to watch him. He still looked like the naïve detective from Wisconsin, but he was a shark. He could get suspects to trust him with his affable, good-hearted nature, but then zero in for the kill.

"From the sounds of this, he's going to be in there a while," commented Garret. "Want me to see if I can get him to come out?"

Jordan suddenly had an idea. "No…just tell him a woman wants to meet him at the Pogue. Don't tell him who, just tell him to show up tonight around nine."

Garret nodded, wondering what she was up to…but asked no questions. Jordan seemed a lot more sure of herself than when she left Boston over a year ago. Who was he to question that…or her?


	11. Where is Home?

**Chapter Eleven**

Woody entered the bar…his curiosity was running high, and his guard was up. Lois Carver had relayed a message to him that a woman involved with the Malden case needed to see him tonight at nine at the Pogue. He had really hoped the case was closed…that there were no loose ends to deal with. She had said she would be in the back corner booth. Woody climbed the three stairs that led to the booths. All he saw was one shapely leg, incased in nylons and high heels, crossed over another shapely leg. He rounded the side of the booth and found himself staring into a pair of whiskey-colored eyes.

"Jordan?"

She grinned, stood up and kissed him softly. "How's things going, Farm Boy?"

He sat down beside her, keeping one arm around her, as if she was going to take off running again. "When did you get back in town?"

"This morning. I came by the precinct, but you were deep in interrogation with someone from some Loring case."

"Yeah….So are you back to stay?"

Jordan sighed and took his hand. "I'm here on a trail basis, Wood. If the Malden thing is truly over…if I can now have peace here in Boston…I'm home for good. If not, I'm going back to Ireland."

He looked at her closely. She was tired…he could see that. And still too thin. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked. She shook her head. "Wanna order?"

They ate dinner and had a couple of beers. Jordan told him where she had been during the month or so no one could find her. "I'm tired Woody. Tired of past. I'm ready for the future…I want to live my life in peace…without worrying any longer about the Malden thing. Is it truly over?"

"As far as I can tell Jo." He had told her everything that he had done to make sure the blame was squarely placed on Malden.

She nodded. "Sounds good."

"So you'll stay…."

"I want to…let's see how it pans out."

"Could I get a dance with you?"

A dance with Woody, before closing…that was like old times. "Yes…I'd like that."

He pulled her up from the booth and found a slow song on the jukebox…In a beat, she was in his arms. He danced with her through the next three numbers, only pulling away when he saw the bar was getting ready to close. "What do you want, Jordan?"

"I want peace, Woody. I want serenity. All the things that I found in Ireland, I want in Boston."

"What about me?"

Jordan lowered her eyes for a minute before looking into his intense blue ones again. "I want you most of all, Woody." Then she couldn't think anymore, because his lips were on hers…

"Where are you staying tonight?"

"I have a hotel room."

"Cancel it. Stay with me."

"Do you think that's wise?"

"Who cares? You're back…it's over…and I want you with me. I've missed you, Jordan."

"I've missed you, too."

"I'm glad you're back…I've saved something for you."

Jordan gave him a puzzled look. "What?"

"You know that auction you made your lawyer have to sell your stuff?"

Jordan groaned… "You didn't buy everything, did you?"

Woody shook his head. "No…just this." He pressed the key to her El Camino in her hand.

* * *

The three months went by quickly. The new DA was delighted to have her back in Boston…even if it was on a trial basis. Her work in the morgue seemed to pick up right where she had left off…she came in without missing a beat, with Bug and Nigel getting her up to speed on cases.

The biggest change that had happened during the time she had been gone was in Jordan herself. She had grown and matured. She was softer….gentler….quieter. Somehow, more feminine, even in Woody's eyes. She wore dresses and skirts more often. But there still was that same air about her that had been present in Ireland…the loneliness that seemed to cling to her. Woody couldn't put his finger why. She was staying with him right now…He was afraid the Malden incident had wounded her for good.

"Do you miss Ireland?" he asked her day, when they were working on a case in her office.

"Yes…I miss the friends I have there…and the country. It was beautiful . And I love the people."

Woody lowered his eyes. He needed to ask the next question, but didn't want to. He wasn't sure what the answer would be. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it. "Are you going back?"

"I don't want to. Boston has been good to me this time…but my dream is to have stability and peace in my life now. I know with my line of work, there's always going to be issues, but on a personal level…I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want a normal life."

"Jordan Marie Cavanaugh…wanting a normal life?" Woody chuckled and drew her into his arms. "That's different. But that's what you really want?"

She nodded. "I guess I finally grew up, Woody. I'm no longer that 10 year-old frozen in time in my mind." She gently kissed him. "That's all I want."

"We need to talk.." Woody began, and then his cell phone rang. In the distance, Jordan could hear sirens begin to wail. He flipped his phone open and answered, "Hoyt…" He listened to the voice on the other end for a few minutes. Turning back to her, he kissed her one more time…"I have to go. We'll talk…tonight?"

Jordan nodded. She hadn't received a page, so it obviously wasn't a homicide. He'd be going solo on this one.

* * *

Woody couldn't find her. And he was deathly afraid that for some reason she had run again…she had no cause to…everything in her life was settled -- James, Malden, her mother. But when he had returned to her office from the traffic accident he had been called to, she was gone. Bug said she had left for the day…a little early. Said she had some things she needed to take care of.

Woody tried her cell phone….no answer. Thinking she may have gone back to the apartment to take a shower and couldn't hear it ring, he had gone home….only to find an empty apartment. Her things were still there…what little she had left. At least she hadn't run…or didn't appear to have. He waited for a while…finally he took off after her….she wasn't at the Pogue…she wasn't at the morgue….finally it dawned on him where she was. He drove to the cemetery, parked, and took the footpath to Emily's grave. There she was…kneeling by her mother's headstone. She looked up when she heard him walk over and stand by her.

"Thought I might find you here," he extended his hand to help her up. "Are you okay?"

"Yes…I am now. Just had some unfinished business with Mom."

"Is it taken care of?"

"Yeah. You know, I just realized that we have no idea what she went through…James…Dad…Malden….her illness….I just really have no clue about how she felt…what really happened to her…"

"She knew you loved her."

"I hope so," Jordan said solemnly. "Because I did…and I do."

Woody gently led her away from the grave sight… "So what's next for you, Jo? Where's home?"

Jordan sighed. "I know I told you one time that home was right behind you…I don't think that's the case for me."

Woody felt his blood grow cold at her statement. In a tight voice, he asked, "Then where is it, Jo?"

She ignored his question for a minute. "All my life…I've been running…either to something or from something. To someone or somewhere that may have clues about my mother's murder…about my family…trying so hard to unravel the secrets that kept me bound…or running from someone who was trying to harm me….or running so I wouldn't hurt someone." She turned to face him. "But those days are over…my dream….is to have peace, stability…a normal life."

"I can give you that, Jordan."

"I know, Woody. And that's why I know where home really is now…"

"Where?"

Once again, she ignored him. "While I was gone…do you know what I dreamed of most of all?"

He shook his head…"No…"

"You. Woodrow Wilson Hoyt. I dreamed of you…being with you. When I'm with you, I'm happy. Life makes sense. You keep me safe. You keep me sane – at least most of the time. I missed everyone, but I missed you most of all. So in answer to your question…home isn't behind me. It's right in front of me." She leaned up and kissed him.

His arms went around her and he kissed her back, then hugged her tight, softly dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "So you're home….for good."

"For as long as you and Boston will let me stay."

"Forever sounds like long enough." He gently led her back to where their cars were parked. "Meet you at the Pogue?"

"Nah…I was really wanting a quiet evening at home…you….me…a good bottle of wine.."

"Sounds good…."

She laughed…"Sounds good…and normal."

Woody chuckled along with her. Life with Jordan would never be completely normal….but life without her wouldn't be a life at all.


End file.
